Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Morning.”
She tucked her thumb in the waistband of his unbuttoned jeans. For a moment they merely stood there, the act domestic in its simplicity. She allowed herself a moment of fantasy where this was her every day. Her. Him.
All she needed.
He leaned closer and brushed a kiss over her temple. “I’ll bring you some food, take a seat.”
Jasmine was halfway to the table before it registered she’d not even hesitated to follow his command. A low chuckle followed her as if he’d read her very thought on the matter. Within five minutes there was a hearty breakfast before each of them, complete with orange juice and coffee.
Instead of sitting across the small table from her, he’d moved the chair he occupied to right beside her, ensuring their legs touched. But he didn’t stop there, no, of course not. This man buttered and put jam on her toast, he cut up her potatoes for her, and she didn’t doubt he would have fed her if she’d not put a stop to that.
“I’m capable.” Her words were gruff.
“I am very aware of how capable you are, Jasmine. Doesn’t mean I stop wanting to take care of you. Providing for you. Protecting you.”
Swallowing down her immediate response, she picked up the toast piece he’d slathered with butter and loganberry jam. A favorite of hers since she’d moved out here, it was a hybrid of blackberry and raspberry. Indulging in a large bite, she watched him in her periphery as she chewed. Slowly.
He observed her in return and once she swallowed, he picked up the toast she’d just taken a bite of and held it back out to her, offering a second. They ate slowly, more often than not him feeding her. But he didn’t try to force her into conversation.
A good thing because she was still raw from yesterday. That much confessing wasn’t easy. Her walls were thick and it had been harsh seeing the world without their protection.
Lance took the dishes away when they finished and together they cleaned up. As she wrapped up wiping off the final counter, someone knocked on the door. Weapons in hand, seconds later they moved in tandem to the door. When they were in proper position, she opened the door and scowled.
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
Lance moved closer and grunted. “How did you find us?”
Robert stood there, blood dripping down his head and covered in dirt and lord knew what else. The man wobbled and gripped the doorframe in one hand.
“I need your help.”
His voice was a wheeze. Jasmine narrowed her gaze but didn’t say a word. She didn’t trust this bastard as far as she could toss him. And given what had happened to Lance, she didn’t think he would either but the man hadn’t shot him yet, so what did she know? Then there was the fact he didn’t answer how he’d found them.
Lance glanced at her before moving her back slightly to open the door a bit more so Robert could enter.
Well, she knew the sliver of betrayal that dripped down her spine and wound around her heart wasn’t one she would be able to ignore. Every single instinct she possessed screamed at her to curl her index finger around the trigger and pull, ending the betrayer’s life.
Had she the anger she used to carry she probably would have, but hating people who’d wronged her took up too much of her energy and she had other things to do. Right now, that included figuring out why the man she’d fallen for was siding with the one who had nearly gotten her, and him, killed.
The minute the door clicked shut, Lance handed over his sidearm to her and immediately frisked the bleeding man before them.
“He’s clean.”
She doubted it but didn’t say a word, merely handed the weapon back to Lance and stepped away.
“Let’s get him fixed up.” Lance guided Robert to the kitchen table.
His phrasing didn’t go unnoticed by Jasmine and she sneered at their backs. Instead of following the men to the kitchen, she went to the bedroom and changed out of her sleep clothes.
Lance entered the room as she tugged her cargo pants up over her ass. He stared at her as she fastened them then tucked the SIG in the waistband. No words were spoken as she grabbed a charcoal gray ribbed tee and drew it over her head.
“Jasmine,” he said, licking his lips and coming closer. “I know you don’t want to see him, but he needs our help.”
Her heart was breaking. It was official. After yesterday and now this, she didn’t have a lot to give. Normally she’d wear something different out of the apartment but she didn’t care right now. And she longed for clothing that made her feel comfortable. Anything to help combat the iciness coating her insides.